“I said don’t fucking move!” My muscles froze when Tristan’s arm swung back, when that disgusting blade drew closer to her bruised skin. As the darkness receded back to my marrow, Tristan’s teeth ground even tighter. “Fuck!”
Do something.
Through a dry throat, I tried to cough up the only threat I could. “This thing is over, kid.” When dark eyes looked back up to me, a familiar sickness washed my system. It was the same wave of nausea that came with the sight of her bruises, of the bloodied handprints in the dark. “Don’t make this worse than it has to be.”
“We’re leaving,” he choked. Locked in his gaze, I couldn’t help another pitiful smirk, a condescending smile. “We’re leaving.”
“Where?”
Bridget’s eyes widened. “Michael,please.”
“Leaving to where, kid?” When my chuckle filled the room, my fingers running through my hair, Tristan snarled out. “You don’t think she’s coming back to me the second you look away?”
It was the pause that fed the thing waiting in my bones. In some pathetic attempt to look casual, I shoved my hands in my pockets and took a sweeping glance around the room— a display that made the disgust on his face grow.
“She’s confused.”
“Confused about what?” My laughter brought another wince of pain from Bridget, another bruise on her arm as Tristan tugged her to her feet. My head lolled to the side, and as I stepped another foot closer, I gave a bored look. “Let’s go, kid. This thing is—”
“Don’t fucking move!”
Bridget’s whimper came again as Tristan pulled her back into his chest, the knife at her throat drawing a droplet of blood. When another roar of anger tore through him, when his grip began to shake, the blade left another mark Bridget would never be able to forget. It wasn’t until the colour drained from my face that Tristan even bothered to notice the droplets of crimson that trailed between her breasts. His body shivered again.
“This is why I wanted to leave,” he hissed, pulling the blade away only enough to wipe at the blood with his sleeve. “We just need— if we just had some time, Bridget—”
Another growl pulled him away from reality entirely. Against the far wall, Tristan turned her to face him. Sweaty palms tried to brush at the stains he’d left on her skin, tried to wipe the blood from her body. Though, it wasn’t the careless touch that kept her vision on me. She wouldn’t look away from me. Whatever hope was left in Bridget died the moment she felt his sickness press against her.
With her blood on his hands, the fucker had a hard on.
“Tristan, maybe Michael’s right.” When his body stiffened, Bridget finally found the strength to meet his gaze— another regret that would follow her to the grave. My name on her tongue brought a hint of recognition to his eye. “If we just take a second to breathe, I think we can—”
“No.” Tristan’s fingers dug back into her shoulders. “Bridget, you don’t—” As my stomach knotted, his voice broke. “He’s manipulating you. He’s always been manipulating you. Bridget, if we just go away for a little bit, you’re gonna see it.”
My hiss of laughter pulled his attention away, lightened the grip on her body.
Good.
“Seewhat?”
Tristan’s brow furrowed, a confused laugh leaving his lips as his gaze jumped back to the broken bird in front of him. “What he’s doing to you. Whatthey’redoing to you.”
“Tristan—”
“I’ve always been there for you. No one’s earned you like I have, and you can’t even see that.” My chest twisted painfully as his eyes travelled back down her body, back to the marks he’d left. When his vision turned back to her, I took a cautious step forward. “Assholes like him are your first choice because they look better? He’snothing, Bridget.”
Just keep him talking, Birdie.
“I’ve got a stable job, and I’ve always treated you right, and I’ve always been there for you.”
“Is that why you tried to kill her?”
“No!” Anger snapped the boy’s head to the side. Bridget’s frozen body pulled him back. “I wouldneverhurt you. I never tried to hurt you, alright? I just needed a way to make you see.” When her lips wouldn’t part, when I took another careful step forward, panic forced another desperate plea. “I just needed a way to make you see that I can take care of you. I just need you to give me a chance and you’ll see—”
“She made her choice.”
“Just give me a chance, Bridget,” he hissed. “Please, can’t you just give me a chance?”
When I saw her lips threaten to part, I lost another piece of control. When I saw another lie about to save her life, savemylife, the dark pushed me forward. Bridget wasn’t going to sacrifice herself again. Not for me.